Forbidden by Faith

by Negeen Papehn

  The boys took a booth to the right and Sandra and I slid in next to them. The waitress appeared moments later to take our order. She was an older woman, probably in her mid-fifties, with short blond hair that swept across her shoulders. She had light blue eyes, the color of a pale ocean, and dimples when she smiled. The name on her tag read Kelly.

  “How are your parents, boys?” she asked immediately.

  “They’re good, Mrs. Wyatt,” Ben replied politely.

  “How are Jess and James?” Josh asked.

  “They’re great. James is home for the holidays, but Jess wasn’t able to come. She has an internship that she had to stay for. But she’ll be here for Christmas,” she said while looking at Ben.

  He smiled nervously at her. The entire exchange felt odd but I couldn’t pinpoint why.

  Then, she asked for our orders and left. I turned toward Ben in confusion.

  “Jess and James are twins; they went to high school with us. James is at Harvard Law School now, and Jess goes to John Hopkins for medical school,” he said.

  “Jess is Ben’s ex-girlfriend,” Josh added, earning a glare from Ben.

  It suddenly made sense. Ben had told me about Jessie. She was his first everything. His first love, first time, and his first heartbreak. After high school, they’d decided a long-distance relationship was unrealistic, so they ended things despite being in love.

  This seemed to be the sad truth about life. We created moments with people who became our world, every breath hanging on their existence, every heartbeat singing their name. Until one day, the world shifted beneath us, and we got lost within its consequences, destined to be just two humans living life simultaneously, becoming nothing more than a distant memory of the meaning we used to have for each other.

  Ben didn’t harp long on his past with Jessie, being that he’d just picked up his current girlfriend from the airport. But I could see a remote longing when he spoke her name. I would be hypocritical if I judged him for it, so I didn’t. Maziar was an ever present energy, wrapping his tentacles around every corner of my life. I was in no position to be angered by a subtle moment of desire that crossed Ben’s eyes when he spoke of his ex.

  An hour later we were heading to the hotel. I was staying at a small inn five minutes from Ben’s house. He had parked his car at the hotel that morning before picking me up from the airport, so he would have a way to get home once Josh dropped us off. I was supposed to be at his house in a few hours for the big girlfriend reveal party.

  “I’m going to head home. I’ll be back at five to pick you up,” he said kissing my forehead. “You should take a nap.”

  He leaned down and gently placed his lips against mine, our kiss moving like the waves of the ocean, calm and quiet at first, then stronger and more determined. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his body closer to mine. His hands ran up the back of my shirt, his fingers sending chills throughout my body.

  The world seemed to shift and something in me awakened. A desire I hadn’t felt in forever burned to life. Maybe it was that I was miles away from home where my past didn’t exist, or maybe it was that I’d missed him the past week, but either way, I wanted more. But before I could urge us further, he pulled away, disconnecting his body from mine. I was left disappointed and malnourished.

  I looked up at him, confused. He laughed at me when I puckered my lips into a frown.

  “Oh, don’t do that. You’re tired and need to get some rest. Tonight is a big deal and I need you awake. I’m about to walk you into a circus. I need you to be ready,” he said, still smiling.

  “Boo. You’re such a party pooper. I can think of other ways to relieve myself of some stress.” I giggled as I ran my fingers up his chest.

  He pulled me back in again and placed his chin on my head. He held me close. I could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat against my chest. It was like a calming lullaby.

  “You know I want nothing more than to be with you. But there is plenty of time for that. Right now I need you to rest,” he ordered gently.

  The melodic tone of his voice was reminding me of how sleepy I actually was. I conceded to putting our escapade on hold and let him say goodbye. I closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment. Up until now, thoughts of sex with Ben were fleeting and terrifying. I always felt uncertain, not allowing me to take that next step with him. Just a few moments ago, though, it was different.

  I knew before I made this trip to Minnesota that we were at a crossroads. We would either take the next step in our relationship or it would just be left to wither and disintegrate into nothing. I hadn’t been sure what direction I’d wanted it to go when I boarded the plane this morning. Now I did.

  It felt strangely freeing to allow myself the simple pleasure of moving forward with Ben. I might not have broken all the bonds that bound me to Maziar, but at that moment, I realized I had broken at least one.

  Chapter Twenty

  When Ben showed up at five, I was still running around in circles trying to get ready. I was nervous about meeting his family and wanted desperately for them to like me. I couldn’t choose an outfit, unhappy with everything I’d packed. I was having a fullblown girlie breakdown when he knocked on the door. I opened it and immediately placed my head on his chest.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned.

  “I look like crap. That’s what’s wrong,” I pouted.

  “Are you kidding me? You look gorgeous. Besides, my family is very laid-back. They won’t care what you’re wearing,” he said reassuringly. “Just grab your bag so we can go.”

  It was freezing outside. I felt awkward in my black leggings, afraid I looked like an idiot who was inappropriately dressed for the weather. I pulled my burgundy jacket in tighter, wrapping my big cheetah scarf closer to my neck against the frigid air. My Middle Eastern hair had decided to choose this moment to rebel against the cold, damp weather of the city, falling down my back in frizzy waves. I felt very self-conscious.

  Ben was still in the same jeans but now had on a white button-up shirt with a gray knitted cardigan over it. He’d replaced the brown beanie with a gray one, making his eyes appear more gray than blue. He always looked like he’d walked off a magazine cover. With my insecurities in overdrive, I was stuck between the desire to rip off his clothing and the furious need to beat him to death.

  The drive to his house was only five minutes, much shorter than I needed to get my nerves under control. I unsuccessfully tried to calm my shaking hands, breathing slowly against the furious beating of my heart. I was so traumatized from meeting Maziar’s family that I was terrified of experiencing another disapproval. Even though I knew Ben’s family had none of the prejudices of Maziar’s, I still couldn’t help but be scared that history would somehow repeat itself.

  We pulled up to his house and he turned off the ignition. My hand shot out and grabbed his arm before he could open the door.

  “I’m not ready yet. I need a minute,” I pleaded.

  He must have seen the fear in my eyes because he put my hand in his and said, “Okay, you tell me when you’re ready to get out.” Then, he turned and faced the windshield, giving me privacy with my emotions.

  Ben’s house was beautiful. It was one of six houses that sat along a roundabout in a circle facing one another. Each house had a large wide lawn with a walkway leading from the driveway to the front door. His was light gray with dark gray tiles on the roof, the windows bordered by white shutters. There was intricate stonework adorning the walkway. The front door was a beautiful dark mahogany color, accented against the grays. It was the kind of house you wanted to raise a family in.

  Knowing I couldn’t hide forever, I turned toward Ben, squeezing his hand.

  “I’m ready,” I muttered nervously.

  “Okay” he said, a smile stretched across his face.

  There were no lines of disapproval around his eyes. No deep grooves of frustration at the edges of his lips. He was letting me take my time. I knew dee
p down that I really didn’t deserve him. For all of his determination and stability, I was filled with anxiety and confusion. Where he was wholeheartedly sure of us, I still questioned our relationship, or more so myself in it.

  I knew I loved him. I just wasn’t sure if it was the all-consuming, make-you-crazy sort of love. Maybe love could come in different forms, and I had experienced the whirlwind kind of love with Maziar but was now experiencing the calm, cool kind of love with Ben. On the other hand, maybe I wasn’t in love with him the way I should be. I continuously tried to gauge my feelings for him. What I needed to do was stop questioning and comparing. The past only seemed to clutter my judgment.

  Ben walked around the car and opened my door like the gentleman that he was, breaking me out of my thoughts. He held my hand as he led me into the house. We stepped down onto a foyer of dark brown travertine. To the right was a formal living room and dining area. The living room had a beautiful cathedral ceiling, lined with dark wood beams housing a large chandelier made of wrought iron with pillar candles. To the left was a winding staircase that led to the second floor.

  We moved farther into the house down a hall. The wall suddenly opened up to a large set of windows that let in a rush of natural light, giving the area a celestial glow. A large deck was outside, overlooking the tall trees, all turning the immaculate oranges and reds of the season, and a small lake that bordered the backyard of the houses. I could clearly imagine nights around the fire pit when Ben was little, hot chocolate in one hand and laughter filling the air.

  As we walked into the kitchen, I could hear his family talking. They turned and looked at us, barely skipping a beat before launching into greetings. No one stared at me coldly or seemed to be judging me. On the contrary, they were all welcoming. Ben introduced me to his mother, June, and his stepfather, Frank. June reached out and threw her arms around me, squeezing me tightly.

  “I’m so happy to finally meet you,” she said. “Ben’s told me so much about you.” Her tone was kind and motherly. I couldn’t help but smile with relief against her shoulder.

  Ben introduced me to his older brother, Jeff, and his wife, Kate. They had two little boys, Nathan and Zachary, neither concerned with me in the least. They immediately launched themselves at Ben, climbing up his body like a jungle gym as he swung them around, dropping them onto the couch in a fit of giggles.

  Ben’s youngest brother Michael was there with his girlfriend, Jenny. They approached me simultaneously, their movements almost synchronized when they reached out to grab my hand. They were high school sweethearts. Although they were two years younger than us, they’d lived together since they’d graduated. I found it interesting that, despite Michael’s age, his parents clearly treated him like an adult while mine still treated me like a child. I couldn’t imagine June trying to tell any of her children how to live their lives. I was envious.

  Within minutes of my arrival we were sitting around the kitchen island, drinking wine and munching on the elaborate spread June had placed before us. They asked me questions about my family, and I replied honestly, never feeling the pressure that was so common when meeting an Iranian family. I wasn’t afraid I would answer incorrectly, making me less desirable in their eyes.

  I could feel the ease with which Ben integrated into his surroundings. He was just as much a part of their tight unit as the rest of them were, despite the geographical distance. They moved in an unfamiliar harmony, almost as if they were all riding on the same wave. I found it fascinating.

  When it was time for dinner, I got up and helped June set the table as my upbringing demanded. It was decorated with festive china, browns and oranges spread across the table, circling a centerpiece of red and yellow flowers. Everyone helped, the women carrying the food while the men refilled the alcohol.

  June had made a second Thanksgiving meal. There was turkey with cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, stuffing, and homemade biscuits. It was the epitome of what Thanksgiving should look like.

  In our home, we had a meal that was a hybrid between the traditional holiday foods and Iranian dishes. We’d have the turkey and cranberry sauce, but there would also be rice and Persian stews. The sides depended on the younger generation, divvied up between the cousins. None of us had the cooking skills of June. Our renditions sadly paled by comparison. Now that I had experienced what a real Thanksgiving meal tasted like, I was ruined forever. I made sure to tell her, making her blush with the compliment.

  Once the meal was over, everyone else helped clean up while Frank tended to the fire pit. When I walked out onto the deck, the sky was filled to the brim with stars. It reminded me of a jar full of fireflies. Not that I’d ever seen a jar full of fireflies, being that I was a native of California. Nonetheless, it was how I imagined it to be.

  June brought each of us a plate piled high with pie and whipped cream. I was rapidly approaching a food coma, definitely gaining weight from this meal alone. If I were back home, I’d have declined. All the women would watch disapprovingly at the consumption of such unnecessary calories. It was a constant topic of conversation in my family. Pointing out those who had “let themselves go” while trying to figure out the secret behind those who had “lost so much weight.”

  We all nestled down around the fire, desserts in hand, talking well into the night. Before I knew it, it was midnight. The little ones had already fallen asleep on the couch while watching a movie. Kate tapped Jeff’s leg, telling him it was time to go, setting off the chain reaction of goodbyes to follow.

  “Did you have a good time tonight? My family wasn’t too overbearing or anything, were they?” Ben asked on the drive back to the hotel.

  “No, not at all. I loved them. It was great. They’re really fantastic, Ben,” I said, squeezing his hand.

  “I’m glad,” he said, with a childlike grin stretched across his face. “I know they loved you, too.”

  A few minutes later, I stood at the hotel room door rummaging through my bag for the card key. I wasn’t sure if he was staying the night and was afraid to ask. He stood just inches away from me, his breath tickling the back of my neck, making it difficult to focus on the task at hand. His fingers were resting on my hip and he began to gently rub them in a circular motion. A wave of desire rushed through me, its heat radiating the entire length of me. I opened the door, flustered as I stepped inside. He followed me in.

  I placed my bag down on the table and turned to face him. He was putting his keys and wallet on the nightstand. I came up behind him, gently touching his shoulder. I felt him stiffen beneath my fingers. I ran my hand lightly down his back, softly nudging him to turn around. He looked at me apprehensively. Never taking my eyes off of him, I slowly shook off his cardigan, then pulled his shirt over his head, letting each article of clothing fall where it landed.

  I ran my fingertips over the definition of his anatomy, tracing the outlines of his muscles. I heard his breath catch in his throat, could see the goosebumps spread over his flesh. I placed my mouth on his chest and painted a trail of kisses up to his neck, where I lingered. He exhaled as I made my way to his mouth. I started to kiss him, nibbling on his lower lip teasingly. When I looked up at him again, I could see fire burning in his eyes. I could feel his restraint bending, like an animal wanting to be uncaged. It ignited my desires further.

  He grabbed the belt of my jacket and slowly undid the tie. His fingers grazed my shoulders as he pushed it off my body, allowing it to fall to the floor. Then, he slipped his hand under my shirt and in one fluid movement pulled it over my head. He playfully ran his fingertips across my bra, teasing my nipples with his thumb. A low moan of pleasure escaped through my lips, encouraging him forward.

  He began kissing me, first my lips, then my neck and collarbone. He’d unfastened my bra and now it was lying on the pile of clothing we’d created on the floor beside us. His hands cupped my breast and when he touched me, I shuddered. I could hardly breathe.

  We stood together, naked and vulnerable
in the dim glow of the lights shining through the window. He looked at me questioningly, watching my face for any hints that he should stop. He let his hand linger on my waist as if he wasn’t sure how to proceed. I closed the distance between us, pushing my body up against his. He lifted me up as if I were a rag doll and took me over to the bed. I wrapped my legs around him, feeling his arousal hard against my thigh. He gently lay me down, lowering his body on top of mine.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, his words heavy with wanting.

  “I do,” I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

  “I don’t want you to do it because you think I want you to.”

  “Shhh,” I mumbled as I put my lips on his.

  Our bodies instantly aligned, our movements natural and familiar as if we were the harmony in a line of music. With his lips and hands, he began to slowly put my broken pieces back together, making me whole again. Under his guidance, I found parts of me I had thought I’d lost forever. I felt as if I were flying as he gently took me to the point of despair. When I thought our bodies couldn’t take much more, we shattered together onto the bed, surrounded by the intoxication of making love. We fell asleep in a tangle of limbs and sweat in the exhaustion that followed. As I balanced on the edge of sleep, I could’ve sworn I heard him whisper that he loved me.

  Lying beside him, I realized that love was a kind of faith, a belief in the person you were with and the person you were when you were with them. I didn’t know where things would go, but what I did know was that I believed in Ben.

  Chapter Twenty-One